Mon Autre Vie
by Rashaka
Summary: On graduation night, a horrific tragedy struck the Sohma family. A year and a half later, Tohru must solve the mystery of the dreams that plague her, while the youngest Sohma prince starts to investigate what happened, and why. -Chpt. 7 and 8 up!
1. in which we meet the Tohru of now

**Disclaimer:** Characters…so not mine.  Story…mine in terms of ficdom.

**Summary: **Tohru attends a culinary arts college and recovers from the traffic accident that left her comatose for a year after highschool graduation.  But her new life is plagued by dreams she can't control. W.I.P.

**Post Date: **3-20-04

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**Mon Autre Vie**

       With the laugh of a girl much younger than her 19 years, Tohru Honda slammed the door of her dorm room to drown out the party noises of the hall.  Still chuckling, she plopped down on her bed lay back with a sigh.  She counted the plastic stars on the ceiling, and thought about how much she adored college.

       Furinken School of the Culinary Arts was the third foremost culinary school in Japan, and gaining attendance to such a prestigious university was something Tohru felt thankful for every morning when she woke and every night when she slept.    She knew it had been a veritable miracle—being admitted after her accident and all, with the late application and the year spent out of school because of her illnesses.  It was too bad she hadn't been able to attend as an eighteen-year-old freshman like the rest of her classmates right out of college, but that's what being comatose does to a person.  Right now, she was grateful to be awake, grateful to be alive, and grateful to be finally starting the life of her dreams.  

       Oh, how she hoped her mother would be proud of her.  And her dear friends, Saki-chan and Arisa-chan too.  She hope they were watching her from heaven, and were proud of how hard she was trying, and how happy she was finally able to be.  Though she missed them dearly, she knew they would want her to be happy, because that's what she would have wanted for them.  She was determined now to live her life as happily and wonderfully as she could, and celebrate their all-too-short lives but living hers well, and honorably.  She'd completed high school, and was attending a university on top of that.  If she graduated with high enough marks, her culinary school would eventually lead to internships with chefs in the best restaurants, and after that, her own catering business.  For now, she had her own room (though it was small as a closet), a job in the kitchens of a nearby sushi restaurant, and enough money saved up to live a frugal but decent life.

       Slightly buzzed from the fruit punch in the party 4 rooms down, and hugging a pillow to her chest as she tried to remember the ingredient measurements for her baked fish quiz the next day, Tohru fell into dreams.

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**    Unnecessarily Long Author's Notes:** And here we go, on the start of —yep, you guessed it— yet another unfinished WIP for Rashaka!

   This one is a bit of a mystery, and though it _seems_ AU at first, don't be too hasty.  The title is French, and if you want to know what it means, find an online translator or any first year French student and they should be able to tell you what it means.  It will come into greater meaning later on.  I thought about doing it in English, but the French way is so much prettier, you know.  Not always, but for this it definitely is.

   My characterizations are based primarily on the anime, with FULL ANIME SPOILERS to come, and one particular cat/graduation-related spoiler from the manga, that I picked up from outside sources.

   I hope you enjoy this story and want to see where it takes you.  I can tell you that there will be romance (if you want to know who you have to read it, or do what I do and wait until 15+ chapters are out and read the ending first), and action, and drama, and many Sohma family members.  I'm going to rate it PG-13 for now, which might go up or down in the future.


	2. in which Tohru dreams

**Mon Autre Vie  
2  
**in which Tohru dreams

       The warm light of the sun wrapped around Tohru and hung over her shoulders like a blanket.  It tickled, this digging her toes into wet sand.  But there was water, water that lapped at her ankles.  A swimsuit, plum colored, supple and sleek and altogether sexier than she felt inside.  Fingers, running lightly over her stomach, feeling the material.  Eyes, far out to the sea.

       "There you are, plum-berry.  You have been missed."

       Turning just slightly.  A boy.  A stranger.

       "Plum-berry?"

       A smile.  A smirk. "If you were an onigiri you'd have a plum on your back, because you're sweet and everyone likes plums and everyone likes onigiri."

       That wasn't right.  She knew this; it was her job to know this.

       "I'm very sorry to tell you this, but that's just not right you know.  One shouldn't put plum on onigiri.  It takes salty foods, not sweet foods."

       Laughter.  Mocking her.  Sun on his smile, her bangs in her eyes.  Wind lifted sand against her legs and water bucked around her feet.  He was facing the beach, watching her.

       "Don't stand like that."

       "Why not, plum-berry?  I can stand any way I want."

       She began to fret.  Bit her lip, tugged on her braid.  Strands of brown hair like gossamer fluttered around her face.  "You have to face the sea.  You have to show respect.  If you look away from the sea, the sea will punish you."

       "I'd rather look at you.  We would all rather look at you than the sea."

       Water to her knees now.  Wind at her back.  Must make him understand.

        "You can't look away from the sea!  Can't you feel it?  Please, turn around.  Turn around before something happens."

       A grin, shy.  A gaze, unwavering.   And then the waves came, like a curtain falling, and there was no stranger, no laughter.

       Only Tohru standing on the beach, with grey clouds obscuring the sun.


	3. in which Tohru’s brain wanders

**                                          Mon Autre Vie  
                                                      3**  
                              in which Tohru's brain wanders

        Tohru's forefinger tapped soundlessly against her desktop in time with her professor's special "lecture" voice.  One of the two large lecture halls on the entire campus, it was used primarily for economics and business classes.  At the moment her Econ-01 professor was casually describing the combined effect of tariffs and environmentalism on the fishing industry in the late twentieth century.  Tohru wasn't honestly very interested in tariffs, but she was here to learn so she did put effort into following the lecture.  

        However, economics were not her strong point.  When she'd enrolled she had no idea that being a cooking major would include so many _other_ courses for the future.  Animal biology. Chemistry.  Economics.  Business. More chemistry.  Basic art design.  More business. Introductory electronics (apparently to keep her from exploding a refrigerator or electrocuting herself with a toaster.) Chemistry. Business. Chemistry.

        Having as she did the goal of starting her own catering company, Tohru valued the business classes quite a bit; she certainly understood the need for the chemistry and biology in food preparation.  But they were merely tools to be acquired for later use—what Tohru really looked forward to every day was her array of lab classes.  And she had many.  Introductory Asian Cuisine.  Introductory Italian Cuisine.  Introductory Fish & Poultry.  She was thankful at least that her history courses would begin_ next_ semester.

        Thinking about her Fish & Poultry lab that afternoon made her think about her dream the night before, with the boy and the ocean that swallowed him up.  She could remember it with a distant clarity: she recalled the relaxed, happy surrealism of the first half of the dream, and then the fear and anxiety of the latter half.  She felt none of those things when she thought about it now, only an overwhelming sense of loneliness permeating from what she thought might be her subconscious.  She wasn't sure subconscious was the correct word—she'd never taken a psychology class.  And she suspected that even the deans at this school would have to talk abnormally fast to rationalize psychology as a necessity for culinary arts students.

         "Tohru, name three effects the end of the Cold War had on relations between Japan and China with regards to agricultural trade relations."

        Tohru jerked her head to the left with a strangled gasp began to stutter an apology.  Sasha, a playfully cheery black American transfer student majoring in Asian Cuisine, looked down at Tohru through her glasses and snickered.

        "My my, Tohru, are you spacing out again?  Lucky it was me and not our _kind_, _understanding_, and _patient_ professor."  Tohru sunk into her seat a little further and hoped she wasn't blushing like a tomato.  Their Econ. instructor was friendly in a casual way, but not at all patient _or_ understanding with people who didn't pay attention.  Tohru nodded her thanks to her friend, and tried again to focus.

        Dreams didn't matter anyway.  She had never met that boy and he hadn't really been swallowed by the sea for looking at her.  Tohru trained her eyes on the overhead projector screen and listened with the rest of her classmates.


	4. in which recurrence is a pain

                                                        ** Mon Autre Vie  
                                                                    4**  
                                            in which recurrence is a pain

When Tohru her hands were in her hair, her head was bent backward toward the ceiling, and her breathe came in shallow gasps.

_Peach.  Mango.  Apricot.  Cantaloupe.  Strawberry.  You can't fight the sea._

Every night it was the same.  For two weeks she'd woken up gasping, rubbing salt from her eyes and trying not to focus on the fact that every night he smiled, every night he named her something new, and every night the ocean drowned him before her eyes.

The unfairness of it clenched at her, made her angry though she had no reason to be.  Figments of her imagination should not command her happiness, her sadness.  But it was all starting to, and that frightened Tohru more than anything she'd felt in months. If she let dreams about a non-existent figure dictate her emotions, then the implications for her reactions to other dreams were terrifying.  What if she got so caught up in a dream, it would not let her go?

For anyone else, the fear was illogical, but Tohru knew better.  She could call to mind in an instant the vision of lights flashing around her, the sound of voices, the honking horns and sirens that knifed through the dark to burrow in her ears.  She could remember seeing a face above her, remember hands picking her up, and then sleeping.  Though she never wanted to, she could still remember what it was like to go to sleep and dream and _not _wake up.

Tohru moved her hands down to her chest, counting to calm herself.  She deliberately emptied her mind of anything, including the boy and the sea.  For a year sleep and dreaming had held her prisoner, had clutched her body tightly in the dark and kept her there.  But Tohru was alive now, and she would not be ruled by dreams again.  This would pass, just like everything else.  All she had to do was wait it out.  If she studied and worked and ate and laughed, sooner or later the dream would stop.  After all, she was happy here.

.~^^+^^~.__


	5. in which Tohru goes to the dread counsel...

**5 **

in which Tohru goes to the dread counselor's lair

* * *

Tohru sat down in the office guest chair gingerly, not wanting to appear too nervous or too excitable. Across the little room, an elderly man with soft eyes waited for her to begin.  
  
"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Takahashi."  
  
"Tohru, it is good to see you as well. You haven't been by in nearly 3 months."  
  
"Well, there didn't seem to be a need, but I'm sorry I didn't come by to say hello! Forgive me."  
  
He laughed, and she could see familiar dimples. "No need, no need Tohru. Actually I was pleased. You've made such amazing progress in so short a time from waking up; it was nice to know you felt comfortable enough not need it. Besides, we've been busy as always, with finals coming up." He shook his head with a long-suffering smile, and Tohru felt herself smiling back. "All the stress you kids take on, it's amazing most of you are still sane. However, I doubt that's why you've come. What is bothering you?"  
  
Tohru ducked her head, and examined the hands in her lap. If she wrung them any more she'd tear her skirt up in no time at all. Time. What was she doing here? She shouldn't be wasting his time over something this foolish. Surely he had other students to see.  
  
"I... I've been having a repeating dream." She waited for some prompting to give her courage; when he didn't say anything she bit her lip and went on anyway.  
  
"It always starts out on a beach. I don't recognize it, but I don't think that's really important anyway. I'm usually in a swimsuit, but sometimes in my normal clothes or my apron. Once I was in my old high school uniform. It's warm, and I'm... happy."  
  
"Are you alone?"  
  
"No. There's always another person there. A young man, a boy, my age I think. I can never remember what he looks like, but I think we're about the same age. He..."  
  
"He is always facing me, with his back to the ocean. He calls me by nicknames-- fruit, usually. And he smiles at me. But, I can see the ocean rising behind him. I try to tell him to turn around, to look at the sea and not at me, but he refuses. And then a wave crashes in front of me, and he's gone. Like he was never there at all, but at the same time I know the ocean ate him. It carried him away."  
  
Mr. Takahashi leaned back in his chair, and chewed on the end of a highlighter. "How long have these dreams been coming?"  
  
"Nearly two months."  
  
"I see. Well after your coma then. And they're always the same?"  
  
"Sometimes he says other things, almost like... like he wants to flirt with me, but is shy. I'm not certain because I don't have a lot experience with flirting. It always ends the same way though."  
  
"Does the boy in your dream resemble anyone you know?"  
  
Tohru shook her head swiftly. "Oh no. I can't remember what he looks like, but I know, I know that he's not one of the boys in class, or from the restaurant. I'm certain of it."  
  
"Alright, well, have you ever tried to change the dream?"  
  
"I'm sorry. I don't think I understand."  
  
The old counselor's smile widened, showing faint dimples. "Next time you feel yourself in the dream, try to inciate a change. Instigate. Be a catalyst. Try to stop the boy from getting pulled into the ocean, or try to lure him away." One shrewd look at how Tohru's eyes darted to the side told him maybe she had already tried that approach. "Or, if that doesn't work, go in after him."  
  
It surprised her. She had never considered following the boy into the ocean. It was always so huge, and dark, and things usually happened too fast for her to think about reacting. "Oh. I never imagined doing that."  
  
"It can't hurt."  
  
Tohru was tempted to tell him that it could hurt, because she was desperately afraid of the ocean of her dreams. She could not trust something that would hurt this boy over and over again before her eyes, simply because he turned his back to it.  
  
"Thank you for your advice, Mr. Takahaahi." She needed a breath of air outside.


	6. in which the littlest prince grows up

WARNING: This chapter contains a rather significant spoiler from the latest manga chapter released in Japan, revealing a dramatic secret about one of the main characters. At first I was planning to ignore it, seeing as how I haven't read most of the manga and only learned that particular spoiler by pure circumstance, but now that I know, it's kind of hard to ignore. Like, really really hard to ignore, even though it has very little affect on the plot of this story itself. So I'm including it. This is your warning.

* * *

.

Chapter 6

_in which the littlest prince grows up _

Hiro Sohma almost smiled as he watched Kisa eat her cake across the room. It wasn't a complete smile—Hiro Sohma _never_ smiled completely, even on a day dedicated solely to him and in which he was the complete center of attention—but it was something close to a smile, and had Kisa turned to see it she her face would have lit up at the sight. She was always like that, and he still loved her for it. Hiro stabbed a fork into his own piece of chocolate cake, and leaned back in his chair as he examined all the relatives filling the reception room.

This was a private ceremony; Kisa had already thrown him a smaller ceremony with some friends from his school. Now she was talking with Haru about something or other, and dozens of other Sohmas wandered about the residence, occasionally stopping by to congratulate Hiro on growing another year. Hiro himself maintained an attitude of unusual politeness in the face of people he would normally, on any other given day, brush off completely; he didn't like a great deal of his family that he did know and the ones that he barely knew had no business, he felt, to be at his birthday party. But he was one of the cursed, which meant he was special and thus deserving of lavish get-togethers, and besides it made Kisa happy.

Making Kisa happy not only remained one of Hiro's major goals, it was nearly a full-time job at this point. She was prone to slide into depression, and if they weren't careful to remind her she often neglected to eat as well. She still spoke, and she didn't run away like when they were a little younger, but she was showing her hurt in other ways. It made sense, he supposed: a different way of grieving for a different kind of sadness. But it worried him often, because unlike the first time, when she had only stopped talking for a month or so, Kisa had now been drifting radically in and out of clinical depression for over a year.

Hiro's not-quite-smile sank back into a neutral stare, and he ate another bite of cake. If nothing else, at least Hatsuharu helped. The older boy was a college freshman now as was Momiji, but he still made time for Kisa, a high school sophomore, dropping by regularly to visit at the main house. Hiro had long ago given up being jealous over this because had it rudely pointed out to him by witnessing Black Haru in a rage that Haru needed to keep ties strong as much as Kisa needed to. His alternate personality reared itself more often these days, and the little tiger could bring him down faster than any of them. The events of a year and a half ago had hit these two the hardest of the younger generation, and already being of delicate psychological condition it inevitably showed most dramatically in them. In a way what shocked Hiro the most, in those moments when he sat down to consider the matter, was that of all of them it was Momiji who remained the most calm and the most adaptable next to himself. Momiji, usually the most emotionally driven of the younger Sohma set, had faired better than all of them on the outside, and then, as soon as he had the opportunity, applied for a university as far away from the clan as Akito would allow him to go short of leaving Japan completely. Hiro recognized the attempt at running away from all the pain and fear, but he didn't hold it against the rabbit. After all, it was his nature, and Hiro knew he would be back eventually.

"Are you enjoying your birthday, Hiro?" Akito asked, voice floating through the din of partiers to crash with sudden violence into the boy's awareness. Hiro stiffened instantly, and turned to the side where the paragon of their clan stood in a gentleman's suit, affecting a smile much wider but more disingenuous than that which Hiro had been trying out earlier. Akito looked tired, of course, but Hiro knew Akito when she was tired was Akito at her most dangerous, because it was when she felt vulnerable. She was supposedly sick today; why was she here and not staying in bed? He didn't want Akito here, of all the people in the Sohma family he wanted Akito at his party least of all.

"It's fine," Hiro answered, working to keep his voice even. "The cake is good," he added, taking an extremely large bite and filling his mouth with it in the hope that he wouldn't have to talk if his mouth was full.

"You have grown up quite a bit when we weren't looking," Akito continued, approaching Hiro's chair and then passing it by in a series of soft, measured steps, voice now drifting back. "Fourteen is a special year. I am pleased you reached it in such fine form."

Hiro dropped his plate onto the table and ran to the bathroom where he retched up every morsel of cake he'd eaten.

Hatori found him a few minutes later, and handed him a cup of water to rinse his mouth with. "Are you alright?" he asked after a minute or so.

"Yeah," Hiro replied, refilling the plastic party cup. "I'll be fine. You can go away now." A rare frown, small but noticeable, creeped across Hatori's expression.

"Whatever Akito said to you, take it with a grain of salt." The older Sohma tucked his hands in his pockets and stared coolly at his cousin. "She would like nothing better than to know that a few mere sentences engendered such a strong reaction from you."

Hiro stood up from the ceramic bowl and wiped his face with a wad of toilet paper. "She said that she was pleased I 'reached' the age of fourteen in such fine form." Hatori said nothing. "What she meant, though," Hiro continued, "was that she was _pleased_ I reached fourteen at all. And as if she deserved credit for my doing so."

Hatori scowled. "Don't read too much into anything Akito says," he retorted.

"Shove it Hatori. Akito was talking about Shigure and Yuki."

"You don't know that."

Hiro yanked open the bathroom door. "Like hell I don't."

The youngest member of the zodiac curse darted his way through the crowd of the party, intent on finding Kisa and making sure Akito hadn't said anything to upset her too. But in the back of his constantly active, constantly circling mind, the smartest member of the zodiac was nursing a new idea. It was a thought that he had never considered before, certainly not when he'd been twelve and terrified. But for the moment he allowed it to take shape, to curl about in his mind and root itself.

_I wonder,_ Hiro thought as he searched out Kisa's tawny hair in the crowd, _if Akito knows something about why they died._


	7. in which Tohru builds something

**7**

_In which Tohru builds something_

_

* * *

_

Tohru sat in the sand, legs crossed. A castle was crumbling in front of her, and across from it she could see the boy, smiling gently as he packed sand to rebuild the western tower. The sand kept slipping through his fingers, however, and Tohru could see it was slow going.

"Can I help?" She asked, and the boy nodded solemnly.

They spent what felt like hours sitting there, building up the castle from wet and dry gobs of beach sand. The castle wasn't perfect—its towers tended to be lopsided and the bridge kept collapsing, but they had a nice moat carved out, and a strong foundation. The whole thing was beginning to take shape when Tohru noticed the tide.

"Look, tide's coming in," she said, sucking in her breath. The boy didn't pay attention. Tohru felt the goosebumps rise all over her skin, and she shook the boy's shoulder. "Listen to me, we have to leave here!"

"Plumberry, we haven't finished the castle yet. Ignore it."

But the waves were rising and getting closer each time, and Tohru couldn't ignore it. Even as she opened her mouth to speak, water surged past the sitting boy and swamped their sand castle. He merely sighed in disappointment. He seemed oblivious to Tohru's panicking, and that made it all the worse.

_Oh god, oh god,_ she thought. _Here it comes again._ She backed away from the water, a hand covering her mouth to keep herself from screaming. A wave rose, and for one horrific moment seemed to hang suspended above the young man. Then it crashed, bouncing white foam everywhere and swallowing every trace of her companion and their creation.

Tohru flopped down on her knees on the beach and stared at the receding water. She couldn't cry; she'd witnessed this so many times she was almost numb to the site. But still her small frame shook, and she felt cold shock creeping through her body.

"It's always the same," she whimpered, digging one hand into the sand beside her. "Why does it always take him? Why can't it leave us alone?"

The tide was pulling back now, content with what it'd come for. A monster sated after a meal. She watched it recede, and trembled to her feet. She took a step forward, and opened her mouth to yell.

"Why do you always take him?" She gasped out. "Why can't you let him be happy!"

She took two more steps forward, then a third. With each step the waves seem to pull back a little more, roll a little less fully. Tohru gathered up all her courage and ran.


	8. in which Tohru makes a decision

**8**

_in which Tohru makes a decision_

_

* * *

_

Hitting the water was a cold shock, so much colder than it'd seemed on the beach. Tohru dove forward, holding her breath as best she could and trying not to think about anything except going forward, going deeper. Why didn't she go in after him? Why indeed, Mr. Takahashi. So Tohru swam further and deeper, until she wasn't swimming anymore at all, merely floating in darkness, eyes open but seeing nothing.

"Hello?" she tried, hoping someone would talk to her. Nothing did at first. There was only darkness, and the silence held for what might have been hours, if time could be measured in dreams. Eventually, ever so tentatively, a voice replied.

"Who are you?" it asked, low and timid.

"My name is Tohru Honda." Still she could see nothing, and it was impossible to trace the origin of his voice in the inky, wandering darkness.

"Why are you here?"

"I followed someone. I wanted to help him. What is this place?"

"Hell."

Tohru jolted awake. She sat up, putting a hand to her chest to calm her nerves. She bit her bottom lip, ideas and emotions running crazily in her head. Foremost among them was the searing, staggering idea that she now understood something that had escaped her all this time.

"I want to help him," she murmured. "I _will_ help him."


End file.
